


He Never Saw the Look

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Weecest, implied Dean/OFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Written for Wincest Love Week Nov. 2016Day 3Prompt: Halloween costumesSam's got a secret. He's in love with his big brother. Little does he know, Dean shares the same dirty little secret.





	

It was stupid, stupid, stupid. He was a freak. If Dad knew, or worse, if _Sam_ knew, he’d be hated and disowned. Maybe he deserved it.

 

These were all thoughts that went through Dean Winchester’s mind as he wiped his stomach free of sticky come. Seventeen years old – he knew he was handsome; he could have any girl or guy he wanted. But the only person that Dean wanted was the thirteen year old boy that slept in the bed across from him.

 

His baby brother, sweet little Sammy, currently spread eagled on the twin motel bed in dirty boxers and one of Dean’s hand-me-down tee shirts.

 

The thirteen year old boy that was scrawny and chubby and too cute for words until this past summer, when he shot up a foot and was nearly matched in height with Dean, though he was now much too skinny for Dean’s comfort.

 

The thirteen year old boy that whispered to Dean in the backseat of the Impala they’d called their home a few nights ago that he _really_ wanted to go to a Halloween party this year. To _please_ take him.

 

The thirteen year old boy that still had nightmares and curled up next to Dean in the middle of the night, oblivious to the fact that Dean had to resist pulling Sam into his lap and kissing those fears right out of his smart little mind.

 

Dean groaned softly and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. Maybe he could smother himself to death – it would be less shameful than his dirty little crush. But no – he couldn’t do that. Sam still needed him. So he would suffer in silence, praying that his lust for his brother would go away – or at least become more manageable – with time.

 

And praying that Sam never found out. God, he’d be so ashamed, disgusted by Dean’s dirty secret. He’d never speak to Dean again, and that was worse than carrying this guilty obsession.

 

Dean went to sleep with those thoughts in the forefront of his mind and guilt in his heart.

 

******

He hated himself more and more every day. He hated Dad. He hated every new school he went to and all those pretty girls that fawned over the sexy bad boy new kid. He hated being so smart because, even if he wasn’t that bad boy’s brother, Dean would never go for a geeky little book boy like Sam fucking Winchester.

 

Sam was a pervert. He spent hours spying on Dean with those pretty girls. He’d watch as Dean took them apart with his fingers or mouth or cock, his own barely-turned-teen stomach knotting with guilt, disgust, and arousal.

 

That was the worst feeling in the world. He wanted to be Dean’s. He wanted to bust into the room and tug those girls off Dean, shout at them to get out, to never come back, never even _look_ at his big brother again. And then he wanted to sink to his knees and profess his love to Dean in the only way Dean would understand, pale pink lips wrapped around that beautiful cock, small body spread out under Dean, begging for more, more, more.

 

He was dirty and wrong and bad. Sam could barely stand to look himself in the mirror most days. Wanting to fuck his big brother – no – wanting to _love_ his big brother in the most unbrotherly of ways.

 

It was a curse, Sam decided. Somehow he got cursed to fall in love with the one man he could never have, no matter what.

 

Against his better judgement, Sam had begged Dean to take him to a Halloween party this year. He was thirteen, he was old enough to go to a party and meet a pretty girl; Dean had been doing that at his age.

 

Sam didn’t see the way Dean’s eyes darkened or his fist tightened at the mention of a girl.

 

No, instead Sam saw Dean laugh and nod, promising to take him to a party, find him a nice girl to pop his cherry. Sam blushed and dropped his head just in time to miss the look of agony that crossed Dean’s face for the briefest of seconds.

 

**

 

The Halloween party was in two days. Sam was panicking, he hadn’t picked out a costume. A school project had kept him too busy to even consider what he wanted to be. When Dean brought it up in casual conversation over dinner, Sam had nearly choked on his spaghetti-o’s.

 

Dean had laughed at him, told him to relax, they’d figure _something_ out.

 

So here they were, wandering through a little costume store, trying on different masks to make each other laugh. Halloween really lost its appeal when one knew the werewolf mask on the shelf looked much friendlier than a real werewolf, or the mask that was supposed to be a zombie clown looked a hell of a lot more like a wendigo. But it was still fun because it was Sam and Dean, a moment shared between them. Nothing could replace that, no matter how old they got.

 

“Hey, Dean, what about something easy like ghosts or dead people or something?” Sam suggested, holding up a makeup pallet.  


“Do you know how to use that stuff?”

 

Sam beamed. “Yeah, I learned in theatre in one of our old schools. I could make you look like a cool skeleton or something,” He offered.

 

“What about that skeleton from that one movie you used to like last year. What was it?”

 

“Nightmare Before Christmas?” Sam clarified. Dean nodded. “Yeah, Jack.”

 

Sam’s face scrunched up as he thought about it, an expression Dean found so fucking adorable it hurt.

 

Finally, Sam nodded. “I could do that for you, yeah. We’d have to find a costume that’d work with it, of course, but I think I could make it look pretty awesome.”

 

Dean grinned. “Great. What are you gonna be then?”

 

Sam shrugged, looking down at the pallet. “Don’t know yet.”

 

“Could always go as the chick from the movie, your hair’s long enough,” Dean teased.

 

Sam tried to laugh, he really did. But what came out was a sort of choked snort. “That’s a couple’s costume, Dean.”

 

Dean shrugged softly. He’d known that, of course – he wasn’t as stupid as people made him out to be. But he’d half hoped Sam would agree, give him _some_ sign that something like this, as wrong as it was in the normal world, could work in theirs.

 

“Just teasin’ you, Sammy.”

 

Sam smiled weakly, torn. He almost wanted to backtrack, agree to be Sally. No one knew they were brothers and maybe, just tonight, he could pretend they weren’t. Who knows, maybe Dean might even slip up and kiss him—

 

A firm kick to the ass, that’s what Sam needed. Dean would never _ever_ forget or slip up – he constantly reminded Sam that he was the big brother. It was a stupid, sick fantasy and Sam needed to pull his head out of his ass before _he_ slipped up.

 

“I think a vampire would be cool,” Sam finally said, forcing himself out of his thoughts.

 

“A vampire?”

 

“Yeah, make myself look all dead with the makeup and then get a set of fangs – call it good.”

 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, I could see that.”

 

“Can we afford it?”

 

Dean checked the price and dug into his wallet, counting the bills he had. “Yep. The job I picked up at the garage after school’s gonna save our asses this month.”

 

Sam grinned that knee weakening grin and it took everything Dean had not to swoop in and kiss him then and there.

 

“Grab the stuff and let’s get outta here,” Dean said, stuffing his hands in his jeans to keep from touching Sam.

 

**

It was the night of the party and Sam was nearly vibrating with excitement. Dean had barely managed to calm him enough to get him to do the makeup. Now here they were, their mouths inches apart as Sam applied neat, thin lines to the corners of Dean’s mouth.

 

Dean couldn’t help but notice the way Sam’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration, pink and wet and damn tempting. The way his brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, as he focused on getting each detail perfect.

 

He moved back to get a better look and let the breath out that he’d been holding. His jeans were uncomfortably tight; he’d never been more glad that he was wearing all black – it hid the painful erection he was sporting at being within kissing distance to his baby brother. Dean sucked in a quick breath when Sam dove back in to fix the makeup once more.

 

Sam had missed the look Dean gave him as he left the bathroom. That slow, lustful drag down Sam’s lanky body, the barely there shudder as he pictured shoving Sam against the wall and kissing him until they couldn’t move. Dean made sure he missed that look, and was unaware that Sam mirrored it the second he turned away.

 

Sam could barely breathe. He’d never been more relieved when Dean left him alone in the bathroom to apply his own makeup. He was as hard as rock, his hands shaking visibly by the time he was finished with Dean’s makeup. Of course, he’d just said it was the strain of keeping such a steady hand and Dean had believed him. It was a strain, of course, but not with his hands. The strain of keeping his body in check, forcing himself not to leap on Dean and kiss him everywhere, smear that detailed makeup and beg his big brother to take him then and there.

 

It took Sam longer to apply his own makeup despite its simplicity. If he was being honest with himself, it was because he knew he needed to calm down, gather himself before he was in the same room with Dean again.

 

**

 

The party was everything Sam had expected it would be. Some friends he’d made from school yanked him away from his brother as soon as they arrived, not that he minded. The point of the party, according to Dean, had been for Sam to find some cute girl or guy or whatever to have some fun with. He’d made it clear that was what _he_ was going to do, and Sam wasn’t quite sure he could handle that right now.

 

It’d been a few weeks since Dean had picked up a girl, and Sam was enjoying it. Sure, his brother was a little snappier and frustrated; he never seemed to willingly masturbate when Sam was around – not that Sam listened for it or anything. It was just pretty easy to notice when their beds were a mere foot away.

 

It was wrong to hope that his brother _didn’t_ find someone that night. It caused a pang of guilt to run through Sam’s stomach, twisting it dangerously close to nausea. But it was so nice, having Dean all to himself. When Sam closed his eyes, listened to Dean babble about something at his job or some frustrating person he’d run into in day to day life or at the school, Sam could almost imagine that they _were_ a couple, sharing a breakfast or dinner and talking about their day to day lives. If only.

 

The house was full. People dancing, grinding, drinking, shouting. Sam was jostled back and forth and felt claustrophobic more than once. He had no clue where Dean was; there were too many people surrounding him for him to search without looking out of place. However, when one of his friends shoved a cup of beer into Sam’s hand Dean was there in a second, pulling it away.

 

Sam tried to pout, but Dean only shook his head. “Rule number one, Sammy,” He said, leaning in close to Sam’s ear so Sam could hear him. “Do _not_ take a drink from anyone, even if you think you can trust them.”

 

Sam scowled a little, but nodded. Dean was right, of course, but it would have been nice to have a drink or two, maybe it would have stopped him from thinking about nothing but how nice his big brother’s ass looked in those jeans.

 

Midnight was the time they decided on beforehand. Leave at midnight, get home and get the makeup off then go to bed. Though it was a holiday, school was still running the next day and Dean knew Sam would kick himself if he overslept.

 

So when midnight rolled around Sam excused himself from the girl he’d been talking with, rising to search for his brother with her phone number burning a hole through his palm. He found Dean after a while, leaning in a doorway with some high school girl dressed like a bunny. A surge of jealousy stole Sam’s breath. He couldn’t move, hurt and furious and guilty and ashamed.

 

Dean’s eyes were shut, head resting on the doorframe. One hand was under the girl’s skirt, moving in a rhythmic pattern that Sam could easily guess the reason for. The other was curled around her waist, pressing her close to him. The girl was kissing and nipping her way up Dean’s neck to his earlobe, pausing to whisper something to him.

 

Whatever she said made Dean’s eyes snap open. He laughed a little and nodded to her before glancing out over the dance floor. His eyes landed on Sam, standing a few feet away from them and he jumped, pushing the girl away and fixing his costume. Some of the makeup Sam had so tediously applied was smeared, his hair mussed from someone tugging it.

 

Sam felt his eyes burning with unshed tears. Before Dean could approach him he turned, pushing past people to get out of the house as quickly as possible. He wasn’t sure why he ran; it’s not like he could run _away_ from Dean. They lived together, and Dean supported him and fed him. But he needed to get away. He couldn’t get the image out of his mind, Dean and that bunny girl playing on a loop in his brain. It’s supposed to be _him_. Dean was supposed to be _his_.

 

So lost in his own world, Sam didn’t hear Dean shouting for him, nor did he notice the pounding of footsteps behind him as he walked toward their motel nearly three miles away. He did notice the hand on his shoulder though, turning him around and shoving him flat onto his ass.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean was furious. Sam could see rage in his eyes, almost feel the anger radiating off his body.

 

“You were busy,” Sam spat. “I figured I’d walk home so you didn’t have to leave the girl.”

 

“I’m not letting you walk home, Sam.”

 

“I run longer with no problem. I’ll be fine. Go get your dick wet or whatever you call it.” Sam picked himself up off the ground and turned, picking up a steady pace again.

 

Dean grabbed his shoulder before he got too far though and spun him around so they were face to face.

 

“What’s your problem?” Dean snapped, not releasing Sam’s arm. His fingers were biting in almost painfully, and Sam felt the tears that had been threatening to fall all night finally do so, streaking the black and white makeup on his face.

 

“You are, okay?” He sobbed, yanking his arm out of Dean’s grip. “You’re my problem!”

 

“What the hell did I do?” Dean asked, clearly taken aback by Sam’s tears.

 

“You’re an idiot!” Sam snapped, wiping his face and further destroying the makeup. “You’re so stupid and blind and I hate you and I hate myself!”

 

Dean’s shoulder’s slumped. “Sam, please, whatever’s going on, I can fix it,” He pleaded, reaching for Sam again.

 

Sam jerked his hand out, knocking Dean’s hands away from him. “No you can’t! No one can fix it! I’m a dirty freak and you’d hate me if you knew the truth!”

 

“What truth?” Dean asked, not giving in to Sam’s temper tantrum.

 

“That I’m in love with you, you idiot!” Sam screamed, throwing his arms out. “Okay? There, I said it. I’m in love with my brother and I’m nasty and disgusting and you hate me! I know you wanna punch me or kill me or whatever, but have the decency to lemme get back and pack a bag first.”

 

Sam was sobbing by the time he was finished ranting. Instead of waiting for Dean’s reply, Sam turned around, taking off down the street at full speed.

  
“Sam!” Dean shouted after him, but Sam ignored him. He began to follow then swore, turning around to get the car – it’d be easier to catch Sam that way anyways.

 

As Dean sped toward the hotel he thought about Sam’s words, Sam’s confession. It was flooring. This whole time he’d felt the same way and Dean had been too blind to see it. He felt stupid. But now he knew the truth: that they were both weird and maybe a little sick, but they felt the same. They could be together in this and that would be more than enough.

 

He’d fix this and he’d make Sam happy, no matter what it took.


End file.
